


You Talk Too Much

by angelofthequeers



Series: Season 12 codas and fix-its [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: After the way Cas looked at him?, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Cas get in his ass, Coda, Come on, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Uses Actual Words, Dean likes having a dick in his ass, Dean's so a bottom jfc, Doggy Style, Episode: s12e10 Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets, Grace-Powered Orgasms, Kissing, Like damn Cas, Like so much filthy smut, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Please send me holy water, Riding, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut, Someone's on the sofa tonight, Top Castiel, We all know he secretly loves chick flick moments, i am trash, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthequeers/pseuds/angelofthequeers
Summary: Dean talks too much and doesn't stop worrying. So Castiel shuts him up...in a way that's unexpected but not really unwelcome.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.
> 
> THIS EPISODE WAS JUST AN ANGRY HUSBAND SPAT AND I CANNOT EVEN
> 
> CAS OWNS DEAN’S ASS. GUESS WHO’S NOT GETTING ANY TONIGHT AND GETS TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH?

_“I know they do. But I don’t regret what I did, even if it costs me my life.”_

Dean can’t stop turning these words over in his head for the rest of the night, long after they’ve all said their goodnights and gone their separate ways – Sam and Dean to bed, and Castiel to…Chuck knows where, since the guy doesn’t sleep. Probably his room.

He just can’t stop thinking about the whole case. About how he’d – once again, mind you – been Castiel’s weakness. He remembers Uriel, all those years ago, mockingly telling Dean that Castiel’s weakness was that he liked Dean. He remembers Balthazar telling him how the ‘angel in the dirty trench coat’ was in love with him. He remembers Meg snidely saying that Castiel was ‘his boyfriend first’. He remembers Hester, how she screamed and raged about how Castiel was lost as soon as he touched Dean in Hell.

And now Ishim, this asshole angel obsessed with Lily Sunder…he’d specifically drawn comparisons between himself and Lily, and Castiel and Dean. Saying how he was going to cure Castiel’s human weakness by cutting it out just like he’d done to himself…with the woman he’d loved. So…that must make Dean the man that Castiel loves.

He wants to scoff and insist that Castiel’s practically his brother, even if their ‘Cold War’ (which Sam had smirked and called an ‘angry husband fight’ when Castiel was out of earshot) had felt more like a lover’s spat than anything else. But then he remembers how he didn’t banish Ishim…and he can’t keep fooling himself and calling Castiel his brother. He’d been willing to not banish Ishim and let the angel kill him just so that he didn’t risk killing Castiel with that sigil. And while this isn’t an inherently romantic thing to do, Dean can’t keep denying what he’d been feeling in that moment. Ishim had been ranting about killing him like he’d killed his own lover…and it had been in that moment that Dean had fully realised just how much he loves Castiel. And now he can’t keep pretending these feelings don’t exist.

Looking over at his digital clock, he groans when he sees that it’s nearly midnight and he’s been trying to sleep for over an hour. He’s clearly not going to get any shut-eye at the moment, so maybe he’ll wander over to Castiel’s room, check if the angel’s alright. His grace has been pretty shaky since healing Ishim and then having the shit beat out of him.

Dean’s stomach jolts when he remembers the sight of Castiel lying there pitifully, his face covered in blood, at Ishim’s mercy. He tries to shove this out of his mind but then all he can think of is the look of utter despair in Castiel’s eyes when Ishim had approached Dean to kill him, and suddenly he can’t keep doing this song and dance. Yeah, he’s not gay. He knows he’s not. He can’t get turned on by guy-on-guy porn, and the thought of ogling guys weird him out. But Castiel is different. Castiel’s the exception to this rule.

Come to think of it, Castiel’s the exception to every one of his rules.

Groaning again, he pushes himself out of bed and stumbles down the hall to Castiel’s room. The closed door looms in front of him like an ominous obstacle and he has to stop and steel himself before knocking.

“Come in,” Castiel calls quietly after a moment, so Dean opens the door. Castiel’s just sitting on his pristine, unwrinkled bed, but he looks up when Dean enters. Dean gives an awkward little wave.

“Uh. Hi.”

Castiel studies him for a moment.

“Are you going to ignore me again?” he says. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Would I be here if I was?” he snarks. Castiel just shrugs.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Dean’s jaw sets and he has to take a deep, calming breath.

“ _Please_ don’t make this difficult,” he says through gritted teeth. “I thought we were past all that crap.”

Castiel has the decency to look ashamed.

“My apologies. Why are you here, Dean?”

Dean gestures to the bed and tilts his head. Castiel nods, so Dean sits down next to him.

“Just…wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says. “After that Ishim crap.”

There’s an odd sort of fondness in Castiel’s eyes as he watches Dean, and Dean’s slightly fearful of how his stomach twists and jitters without his permission.

“You’re lying,” Castiel says. “You made sure I was okay earlier this evening, when you offered me that beer. You wouldn’t wait hours before checking on me unless something else was amiss. So tell me, Dean. Why are you here?”

Dean lets a big breath explode loose.

“We gotta talk,” he says. “About – about what Ishim said.”

“Which part? The part about how I’m weak? Or how I used to be a magnificent warrior of Heaven until you ‘brought me down’?” Castiel’s use of literal air quotes is so freaking adorable that Dean wants to kiss him then and there. “Quite frankly, I’m tired of you blaming yourself for my fall. I chose to embrace free will and all the consequences that came with it. And I stand by what I said to Ishim: I’m stronger by having you and Sam, not weaker.”

Dean sighs again and runs a hand through his hair.

“The bit about how _I’m_ your weakness,” he admits quietly. Castiel frowns at him.

“As I said, don’t feel guilty. It’s natural that you would be my weakness, when you and Sam are the only true friends I have.”

Dean laughs slightly hysterically.

“Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m on about, man! You know exactly what I’m gettin’ at! He compared me to _Lily_! To the chick he was _in love_ with! And he compared you to _him_!”

“Dean –”

“And he’s not the only one, is he? Uriel said you liked me and you were weak ‘cause of it. Balthazar said you were in love with me. Meg said you were my boyfriend first. Hester said you were lost the minute you laid a hand on me. Hell, _you_ said yourself that we have – that we have a ‘more profound bond’ or whatever!”

“ _Dean_ –”

“So I really don’t know how you feel but c’mon, Cas, all these people saw it? There’s gotta be _something_ there! And I can’t – I can’t be your weakness, man! I can’t sit there and let you just do stupid shit to keep me alive without even caring about yourself! I can’t –”

He’s cut off by Castiel giving an exasperated groan, then pressing his lips to Dean’s. Dean makes a startled sound and freezes for a moment before it registers: _he’s kissing Castiel_. Or rather, Castiel’s kissing _him_.

“You talk too much,” Castiel growls. “I’d prefer it if you put that mouth of yours to better use.”

Dean suddenly can’t think, because all of his blood has drained to his downstairs brain.

“Okay,” he says dumbly.

Then they’re kissing again, hot and heavy and furious, and Castiel’s got Dean pressed into the mattress as he lies on top of him and attacks his mouth again and again. Dean can hardly breathe and his vision is swimming and all he can really do is just kiss back, tangling one hand through Castiel’s dark, messy hair. They take a brief respite to rip off each other’s clothes – Dean gets impatient and actually scatters Castiel’s buttons everywhere, sending them a mental middle finger, while Castiel tears Dean’s shirt straight in half – and then they’re making out again, lazily rutting against each other as their mouths and tongues furiously work against each other.

“I want to sleep with you, Dean,” Castiel says in that low, gravelly voice of his. “If that’s okay with you.”

Dean opens his mouth but no words come out, so he nods instead.

“Who’s gonna be on top?” he manages to croak. Castiel raises an eyebrow – Jesus _Christ_ , Dean could come just from that look alone – and just stares at Dean.

“Judging from the sheer attitude you showed me, I think you need to learn your place.”

Dean swallows nervously because he’s never bottomed before, but he doesn’t think he’d mind trying it with Castiel.

“I’m down with that,” he says hoarsely. “Got any lube?"

In response, Castiel slides off him to fumble in the top drawer. While he searches, Dean rolls over onto his front and leans on his forearms, presenting his ass to Castiel. His body is wracked with tremors when Castiel’s hands gently knead the globes of his ass.

“Sam described our interactions as an ‘angry husband fight’,” the angel says. “He thinks I didn’t hear him but I did. And judging by what we’re about to do, I’d say he was quite right.”

Dean looks around at him and smirks, then wiggles his ass. Castiel slaps him – not hard, but forceful enough to sting and send a jolt straight to Dean’s dick.

“So beautiful,” Castiel says, fingers splayed possessively over Dean’s cheeks. “And all mine.”

“Just get inside me already,” Dean demands. The click of the lube bottle opening sends shivers up his spine and then suddenly, a finger is inside him, burning but not too painful, and it easily seeks out his prostate and jabs. He gasps and ruts into the mattress.

“ _Shit_ , Cas –”

Castiel doesn’t seem to be in the mood for foreplay tonight, judging by how he meticulously stretches Dean until he can fit four fingers inside him. There’s no tender jerking off, no sloppy blowjobs, no gentle caressing and body worship, and Dean’s not sure if he’s disappointed or not. On the one hand, foreplay is half the fun and he’d kind of love to be able to kiss all over Castiel’s body…but on the other hand, he’s too damn worked up for anything except fucking.

It’s not long before Castiel deems Dean ready. He pumps his fingers once more, striking Dean’s prostate and causing stars to explode before the man’s eyes, before withdrawing them. There’s nothing but anticipation for a moment but then Dean feels the blunt head of Castiel’s dick at his entrance before it pushes in. A long, low groan escapes Dean’s mouth.

“Dean, you feel – amazing,” Castiel gasps once he’s fully seated inside Dean, his hips flush with Dean’s ass. Dean can only let out a strangled moan at the feeling of having Castiel’s cock inside him, filling him up – feeling so _full_ and _connected_ to the angel on top of him, to the angel he’s had this weirdly deep bond with for years.

“Move, damn you,” he slurs. Castiel’s hand trails down his spine, resting on his hip, and then he gently pulls out and thrusts back in. The pace is gentle for a few thrusts but, just as Dean’s about to tell Castiel to speed the hell up, the angel starts to thrust faster.

“Oh – _oh_ , Dean!” he pants. Dean just moans as every thrust sends heat coursing through him, clouding his brain until he can’t even think, can’t do anything except rub himself against the mattress as Castiel grips his hips tightly with both hands and thrusts, the obscene sound of his balls slapping against Dean’s ass and their animalistic grunting filling the room. This is by far the _best_ sex ever, and he’s torn between wanting to come and feel this certain mind-blowing orgasm or wanting this to last forever.

But then Castiel slows down, stops, and pulls out. Before he can stop himself, Dean whines loudly.

“I know,” Castiel says soothingly, stroking Dean’s ass. “But I want you to turn over. I want to see your face as we do this.”

Wanting Castiel back inside him as soon as possible, Dean musters up what little strength he has and obediently turns over, collapsing onto his back. With a smile, Castiel pushes Dean’s legs up to his chest and swiftly re-enters him, and Dean lets out a choked gasp as this new angle has Castiel’s dick spearing his prostate and sending white hot heat surging through him.

“That’s it, Dean,” Castiel encourages as Dean’s legs rest on the angel’s shoulders. He reaches out and brushes sweaty, dark blond hair out of Dean’s glazed green eyes. “Now I can see you and kiss you.”

He takes Dean’s hands and squeezes them tight, clasping their fingers together on either side of Dean’s head. Then he leans down to press their lips together and as his tongue swipes against the seam of Dean’s mouth, he starts to thrust again. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to turn sloppy, composed more of panting against each other’s mouths than actual kissing.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Dean moans. “Jesus, Cas, so fucking good, keep fucking me, right there, Christ, so amazing, perfect angel, so hot –”

Castiel whines, releasing Dean’s hands to grab his face wildly and kiss him again messily. With his hands free, Dean wraps his arms around Castiel’s neck and pulls him even closer, so that their chests are touching. Not only is this contact hot as hell but now Dean’s dick is trapped between them and every time Castiel thrusts, the friction on Dean’s dick makes him see white spots.

“Cas – gonna come – I can feel it – ‘m gonna come –”

Castiel kisses him again, his mouth rough against Dean’s.

“Let go, Dean. You can let go with me.”

Dean isn’t sure, but he suspects that Castiel’s trying to sneak actual ‘you don’t have to hide with me’ feelings into this. He quickly forgets this thought, however, when Castiel hammers his prostate again and then again. One last thrust and then Dean’s balls tighten and he’s coming, his head thrown back in a howl as he spurts white ropes between them and heat even hotter than the sun scorches through him. His heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest and he can’t see through the spots dancing in his vision and God, this is probably the best orgasm he’s had in his entire life.

And then it’s over – for him, at least. His legs slip from Castiel’s shoulders as he goes limp, but Castiel hasn’t come yet and is still rutting against him furiously. Dean forces himself to prop himself up on his elbows and he whimpers when he sees Castiel’s cock pounding in and out of his loose hole, relishing in how full and connected he feels despite having come. He never wants this to end, not if it means Castiel has to leave his body. He’s surprised at how much he’s grown to love having a dick inside him – but it’s Castiel. It’s _Cas_. He probably would never have let anybody else do this – he’d never have _trusted_ anybody else to ram a cock up his ass. It’s just how their bond works.

“Cas,” he slurs as Castiel continues to pound, panting and grunting furiously. “C’mon…roll over.”

He’s surprised that his words manage to penetrate Castiel’s sex-addled brain but the angel gasps and obeys, cradling Dean and then rolling over so that he’s on his back and Dean is on top of him, impaled deeply. Dean’s tired as hell but he still begins to grind down, intent on making Castiel come. Castiel quickly catches on, grips Dean’s hips tightly, and starts to thrust up, Dean whimpering with the post-orgasm oversensitivity.

But then, for the second time that night, Castiel stops. Dean’s about to ask him what’s wrong when Castiel sits up and presses two fingers to his forehead. A wave of heat surges through him and then, to his utter shock, his dick rises by itself and curves between their stomachs, an angry red colour.

“You –” Dean bites back a moan. “You used your mojo to give me a boner again?”

Castiel grins at him. Dean only has a moment to prepare and wrap his arms around Castiel’s neck before he’s being gripped tightly around the hips, lifted up, and then quite literally slammed back down on Castiel’s cock. Dean’s just along for the ride at this point, unable to stop himself from moaning at how fucking hot it is that Castiel’s basically using him as a sex toy at this point and how he’s doing no work at all. He’s always been weird like this; hating to be used in ordinary life, always resenting how people have tried to wield him as a tool…yet finding it one of his biggest kinks in bed. It’s liberating to let go and just let himself be used when it comes to sex. Maybe it’s because when it comes to sex, he has control over whether or not he feels used and is used; and while Castiel isn’t giving him any choice now, he knows he just has to say the word and the angel will stop straight away.

“Dean…” Castiel keens, his fingers digging into Dean’s hips. Dean’s sure that he’s going to have bruises but not only is the thought of being marked like this insanely hot, he really can’t care when all he can feel right now is tight fingers around his hips and a cock dragging in and out of him, sliding along his inner walls, fucking him so hard in the ass that he’s going to feel this for the next week at least. He’s clinging to Castiel as tightly as possible, his chin resting on Castiel’s shoulder, and he’s lost total control over his mouth by this time. He’s totally unable to help the moans and whines and babbles that escape, and Castiel seems to be feeding off them because he presses frantic kisses to Dean’s lips whenever Dean stops, as if to encourage him to keep going.

“Dean, I think – can I come inside you?”

Dean shivers violently at this. Castiel can hardly concentrate enough now to keep lifting and slamming him, so he takes pleasuring Castiel into his own hands and starts to grind his hips down on Castiel’s cock. He doesn’t have the strength for full-on bouncing, so he settles for just grinding frantically, rubbing the head of Castiel’s dick against his prostate, with the occasional minute rise and fall to enhance the sensation for Castiel.

“Yeah,” Dean says breathlessly. “Come in me, angel. C’mon, Cas.”

Castiel stiffens. Dean’s not given any warning before the angel crushes their lips together and shouts into the kiss as he comes. It’s an odd feeling, having come painting his insides, but to Dean, it’s Castiel finally leaving a mark inside him and it just feels way sexier than he knows it will once he’s not dazed with lust.

“Nearly there,” Dean whines, biting his lip in frustration. He needs extra stimulation now that Castiel’s cock is soft and has slipped out of him and so he reaches down to stroke himself but Castiel slaps his hand away, then takes Dean’s dick in hand and starts to jack him off at a fast pace. It doesn’t take long after this for Dean to come for the second time and this time, his orgasm is silent, punctuated only by him digging his teeth into Castiel’s shoulder and holding on for dear life.

Now fully spent, Castiel collapses backwards, cradling Dean on top of him and running his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean can’t even think straight and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to have sex with anyone else ever again; Castiel’s totally ruined him.

“I think that solved our argument wonderfully,” Castiel finally says. Dean snorts.

“Dude, it was over already.”

“We had to make sure, didn’t we?”

Dean laughs breathlessly as Castiel presses a kiss to the top of his head, then lets Dean slide off him before taking the man in his arms and holding him close. Dean snuggles into his side, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, ignoring the slightly disgusting sensation of come leaking out of his ass. He knows that it’s gross now that he’s not blinded by sex but honestly, there’s still something appealing about being marked by Castiel in this way, even if no one else will see it. Well, not unless they want their eyes to burn, because not only will they be disgusted but Dean’s willing to bet that Castiel will smite anybody else who tries to touch him in this way. It’s oddly hot, knowing that he belongs to Castiel and yet knowing that Castiel wouldn’t dream of treating him like some sort of possession. This is how he’s wanted to belong to someone for ages, but no one’s ever been able to do this for him. No one else has been _right_.

“Am I still sleeping on the sofa?” Dean says. “‘Cause I’ve seen that look in your eyes on TV before, when chicks were pissed at their husbands. Poor guys always ended up on the sofa.”

Castiel’s lips twitch.

“Do you want to sleep on the sofa?” he says, carding his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean groans happily and melts into the touch. “I’m sure we can arrange that if you’d really like that.”

Dean punches Castiel weakly.

“Shuddup.” They lapse into momentary silence. “Mind cleaning us up?”

Castiel waves a lazy hand and the come that’s dried on their torsos and is still seeping from Dean’s ass vanishes, leaving them warm and dry. With another wave of his hand, the blanket underneath them is suddenly covering them from the waist down.

“I’m glad we’ve stopped fighting,” Castiel says. “I hate fighting with you. And I’m glad we got to have sex together.”

Dean chuckles.

“Yeah. First time for me as well.” He sobers up and props himself up to look Castiel in the eye. “You do know you’re – y’know – the only one who’s done this to me, right? I wouldn’t trust anyone else to – to do _that_. You’re not gonna judge me for _liking_ it and – ah shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this – I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Not even Cassie and Lisa. I loved them but not – not like this. Like, you can take care of yourself. That’s a big thing for me. And I still got so pissed when Dickbag talked to you like that. No one gets to be mean to you but me. Just like no one gets to whale on Sam except me.”

He groans and buries his face in Castiel’s shoulder.

“You’re gettin’ me to talk about _feelings_. Fuck me.”

“I’m quite sure I already did that. And I made you climax. Twice.”

Castiel sounds very proud of himself. Dean snorts.

“Don’t go gettin’ a big head, sunshine. Just ‘cause you can mojo my dick back up. I blame the orgasm endorphins and shit.”

Castiel pats him on the head rather condescendingly. Dean swats his hand away.

“So, what now? About those cosmic consequences? This shit bites us in the ass, Cas. And I can’t lose you. Not again. Not after gettin’ this close to you. Losing you hurts as much as losing Sam and I dunno what I’ll do if –”

He’s taken by surprise when Castiel leans down and gives him a sweet little kiss.

“Dean?” the angel murmurs. “You talk too much.”


End file.
